I was an adoring Dahl fan as a child but let's not reissue them for a new generation

By Joanna Nadin, Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing, University of Bristol

If children are built, in part, by the books they’re raised on, then I was all Roald Dahl. From my small bedroom in suburban Essex, his stories allowed me to try on new and distinctly more exciting lives for size.

There was James aboard his giant peach, George with his marvellous granny vanquishing medicine and of course, Charlie, who wins a trip to a chocolate factory and a lifetime’s supply of sweets — for the grandchild of a dentist, an impossible dream.

And Dahl was my dream maker, a fairy godfather, a living wizard. So much so that when I, the adoring fan, eventually…

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